Page 143 of Vicious Butterfly
“Wouldn’t you? You’d pick him over your brother? Flesh and blood? He can’t meanthatmuch to you?” Clarence says.
“Arrrrgh!” It’s a fucking war cry. I grip the edge of the boardroom table and flip it. Henry and Clarence jump back, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the table. I pull in heaving breaths, teeth bared, looking for blood.
“Easy, VanCourt,” Henry says.
“I can’t wait to murder you.”
“Okay, I miscalculated a tad,” Clarence says, which is an understatement, but it means he didn’t know how much I was invested.
But now he does.
“I’ll make sure Ryan’s protected, and that he’s returned to professional hockey. That’s his dream.”
“And if he’s not? Is the deal over? Will he be returned to me?”Where he fucking belongs, I don’t say out loud. But I want to hear how they think they’re going to convince me to give up Ryan. As if I ever would. As if I’d ever trust them.
“Ryan doesn’t get returned to you. Not in any universe. But I’ll sign a blood pact.”
“I choose who goes in the blood pact,” I say, testing him. I want to know where he breaks. “Rosaline.”
He pauses. Almost gives himself away. I already know Rosaline’s his pride and joy, but how much does he need Ryan for that pact with Kline? Is he willing to put her name on a blood pact as collateral?
Henry nods. “Rosaline.”
“Good. And I want to be the one who kills her if you go back on your word.” I wouldn’t, but he doesn’t know that. I would have to keep her as my prisoner, which could be a problem, but there’s no point worrying about bridges I’ll never cross.
“Absolutely fucking not,” he says.
“I guess you don’t need Ryan after all.”
Henry turns to Clarence. “You said he’d fold over the Luke thing.”
Thank fuck. I’m gaining some ground back. Them turning against each other would work in my favor.
“He will. You don’t know him like I do. Just because he pretends not to give a fuck, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t. I’ve watched him. His uncle told me all his pressure points.”
That’s a lie. Has to be. Uncle Jasper hated people too ignorant to figure things out for themselves. He’d never give information about me away. Unless he needed Clarence to know how to make me bend … Maybe this was all a fail-safe in the event of his death. Hard to say.
“If you keep your promise, you have nothing to worry about, Savage. I’ll only gut her like a pigifyou don’t keep him safe and unharmed. Hmmm, is she pretty like Ryan? Bet she’d want me as much as your son does. Maybe I’ll fuck her first. Film her moaning while I slide my fat cock?—”
“Shut up, shut up, just shut the fuck up,” he snaps, just on this side of having a breakdown. I do that to people. “It will be as you request. Enough negotiating. Do we have a deal?”
25
RYAN
I’ve lost track of the number of demerits I’ve earned for not doing up the top button on my shirt, but I swear it’s choking me. Every move I make is watched, every activity planned and closely monitored.
I’m suffocating.
They took my phone. I can’t even call Tate. I’ve thought about getting one of the guys to do it, but what if they decide to inspect their phones? I don’t want them in shit because of me, but also, it could get their phones confiscated, and if there’s an emergency, I need access to the outside.
I never imagined that this would be my breaking point, trapped at North Point. But I know why. It’s because it’s too familiar, too much like before when Father kept me in the house, never letting me leave, other than when he needed me to be somewhere repping the family.
I can’t fucking go back to that.
It’s an ugly fucking weakness, because if Tate rides through that wrought iron gate on his death horse, I might go with him, Griff or no Griff.
No, I know I will.
